


Consume My Wine, Consume My Mind

by Jackdaw816



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Immortality, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28089831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackdaw816/pseuds/Jackdaw816
Summary: Only the most fervent of the god's worshippers enter the final chamber of the temple
Relationships: Andy Davidson/John Hart
Comments: 17
Kudos: 16





	Consume My Wine, Consume My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I CANNOT believe how long it took me to write a greek myth AU like I'm such a sucker for it. And I'm also a sucker for John/Andy, so of course, I had to write Dionysus!John and mortal!Andy. Hope this doesn't suck! And that you like Vera!

Divinity buzzed in the air, a humming static that grew stronger as Andy approached the temple. It crackled over his skin and raised the hair on his arms in a crude imitation of fear. But Andy wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t fearless, but the being that dwelled inside wasn’t (usually) the cause of his concern.

He walked through the vineyards, careful not to tread on fallen grapes. Around the deity’s temple, the vines flourished, growing thick with plentiful fruit. Andy’s stomach rumbled lightly, but he didn’t dare to touch even the fallen fruit. Only a fool would take from the gods what hadn’t been offered.

Stepping out of the vines and onto the temple steps, Andy suddenly felt watched. It was a familiar feeling, and by this point, it was almost comfortable. The god knew he was there, just like Andy wanted him to.

He stepped inside, leaving the glow of the moonlight behind for the flicker of candlelight. The temple was quiet, the usual throngs of worshippers gone with the day. He was not a god of the night, but much of his best work was done in darkness. The deeper Andy went, the more at ease he felt. The air hung heavy with something like incense, each breath more intoxicating than the last.

He followed snaking, intricate corridors, his sandals thudding gently on the stone. The walls were draped with thick tapestries, depicting the glories of the god. (About half of them were just pansexual orgies, but Andy had no right to judge.) He turned a final corner and was met with a wall of light and sound.

The god’s chamber was massive, with a high ceiling and elaborate columns carved with vines. The walls were hung with purple silks, torches casting the entire place in a soft, golden glow. Across the floor, maenads and satyrs, members of the god’s slightly mad retinue, leaped and gamboled, goblets of wine in hand, their laughter filling the air. Andy couldn’t resist smiling, but the revelers weren’t the object of his affections.

On the far side of the room was the god of the temple. He lay reclined upon a kline draped with purple silks and leopard skins, one hand stroking behind the ears of a live leopard absentmindedly. A wreath of ivy rested in his brunet curls, and he watched the revelers writhe with bored blue eyes.

He was attended by three beautiful maenads, these much calmer than those in the sea of revelry. One held a kantharos (an ornate drinking cup), another a thyrsus (a staff wound with ivy and topped with a pinecone), and the third a bunch of grapes. Occasionally, the third maenad would pop a grape into his open mouth. Andy suppressed an irrational flicker of jealousy watching his tongue flick against her fingers.

When Andy stepped properly out of the corridor, the leopard raised its head, light green eyes narrowing. Andy resisted the urge to shudder and walked calmly forward. The leopard growled, and the god looked toward Andy. He watched as the god’s eyes flickered with amusement, and he sat up, dislodging the big cat from his lap. He snapped his fingers, and the room fell silent.

“Leave this place,” the god ordered, his voice not quite a growl. Andy’s eyes went wide, and he took a ginger step backward. He thought he was welcome, but apparently, he’d misread the ivy-bound parchment delivered by serpent. Although he wasn’t sure how he could have misinterpreted _come to me_. (No, he could think of one way, but the god would appreciate that misinterpretation.)

“Okay,” Andy said, trying not to stutter. “I mean, yes, my lord.” He backed up faster, never taking his eyes off of the god, the threat. But then the god shook his head.

“No, not you.” He brandished an arm at the revelers. “Them.” His eyes narrowed. “ _Now!”_ Seconds later, the room was free of satyrs and maenads, even the trio by his side. He beckoned to Andy with a hand. “You, come here, darling.” Andy swallowed hard, the receding adrenaline rush leaving his hands trembling, and approached the dais.

The god held the bunch of grapes, left by the maenad as she fled. His kantharos rested on the ground beside him, and his thyrsus leaned against the kline. His leopard was still around, lounging beside the god. Andy eyed it warily as he approached, and the god seemed to notice his discomfort.

“Vera,” he purred, leaning closer to the leopard. “Be a dear and go make sure they don’t tear up the vineyards. I’d hate to have to punish them.” The leopard growled lightly then left, padding quietly out of the room. The god turned back to Andy and grinned. “She’s my favorite mortal being.” His eyes flickered over Andy, almost devouring him. “After you, of course.”

“I’m honored, my lord,” Andy said, not meeting his burning gaze.

“As much as I love being your lord, I think we’ve moved beyond that. You can call me-” And he said his name, molten ichor in a word. It was the strength of vines bursting from the earth, the roar of lions and leopards, the selfish ecstasy of selfless pleasure. Andy shuddered as the sensation rushed over him, then slowly shook his head.

“I can’t, my lord,” he admitted. The god frowned at him. “I physically cannot say your name, as much as I may wish to. It is divine. And I am not.” He kept frowning, although Andy got the sense that it wasn’t directed at him.

“A shame,” he sighed, “but no matter.” His smile was like sunlight bursting through the clouds. “Come sit.” He tapped the spot where the leopard had been lying on the pelts of her slaughtered brethren. Andy steadily pushed that thought away and complied. “I’ve missed you.” 

He plucked a grape from the bunch and held it out. Andy took it from him, letting his fingers linger against the god’s own, the touch sending shivers down his spine. He popped it into his mouth and bit down, the heady, sweet taste flooding his tongue. He swallowed and could feel the god watching his throat.

“It’s only been two days.” He bit back the ‘my lord’ before it could leave his tongue. They were alone now, and the god seemed to be craving intimacy that day. Sure enough, his eyes lit up.

“And I’ve spent most every minute thinking of you,” he purred. He leaned in, cupping Andy’s face in a hand. “Is that a bad thing now?”

“Maybe not,” Andy said, grinning softly. “Assuming you haven’t been neglecting your duties.” The god pulled back, his handsome face twisted into a pout. He made the grape bunch vanish, then starting listing off duties on his fingers.

“Made grapevines grow? Simple. Encouraged people to leave their inhibitions behind? The wine does that all on its own. Blessed many a couple with children? In my sleep. I even finally fulfilled my promise to that shepherd guy.” The god shrugged, then leaned back, arching an eyebrow. “The world has not fallen apart because I’ve devoted my mind to you, dearest.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” Andy said, trying not to blush. The attention of a god was… intoxicating to say the least. Especially this god. “I don’t know why people don’t pay you as much mind as the others of your pantheon.” Something flared in the god’s eyes, then vanished.

“They think I’m just a drunkard,” he said irritably. “And they’re not wrong. My most important duties are shared with countless others. I am not the only god with dominion over plants, and far from the only one prayed to for fertility.” With a huff, he reached for his kantharos and took a deep drink. Andy frowned. He hadn’t meant to bring him down.

“But you are the only-” and he tried his very best to pronounce the god’s name with his weak mortal voice. The god looked at him with wide eyes, and Andy wondered if he should be running. But then the god started to laugh.

“You are one of a kind, Andy,” he said, his (beautiful) laughter fading away. “I can’t remember the last time a mortal even tried to say my name.” The kantharos was discarded, gently, and Andy found himself pounced upon by a very amorous god. Oh, he’d missed this.

After, they lay tangled together, sweat drying on their skin. Andy always loved this moment, the stillness after the storm. He could never think properly during, but after, he could hardly believe his luck. 

He still wasn’t sure exactly what the god saw in him. Even an aesthetic appeal wouldn’t have caused the god to keep him around for long, wouldn’t have kept him this close. If Andy didn’t know any better, he would say the god loved him. But he did know better. He wasn’t even sure the god could love. Never mind Andy’s feelings on the matter.

“Stop thinking so hard,” the god murmured from where his face was pressed into Andy’s chest. “I can literally hear the little gears turning.”

“I’m not an automaton,” Andy said, stifling a laugh. “I don’t have gears.”

“Spoilsport,” the god muttered. He lifted his head and kissed Andy’s lips, his taste as sweet and intoxicating as his wine. “But you are thinking too hard.” He kissed the hinge of Andy’s jaw, then kissed slowly down his neck. “Have I disappointed you?” A light bite on his clavicle that made Andy hiss. “Shall I strive to do better?”

“No, no,” Andy panted, gently pushing the god back before he could travel even lower. “You were… far more than adequate.” The god laughed.

“High praise from the man who shines so bright he rivals the sun,” the god replied then swallowed Andy’s protests with another kiss. “My half-brother may be the god of the sun but you are sunshine incarnate.” Andy rolled his eyes but gave up. He could be so dramatic, but he expected no less from the god of theater. He had no doubt the god would have continued singing his praises if not for the sudden rush of wind whipping through the chamber.

“What?” Andy said suddenly, sitting up. The divinity in the air had thickened, just like the static before a thunderstorm. There was another god nearby. Andy’s god stiffened, pulling away from him.

“Vera!” he yelled, voice a tad too frantic. He snapped his fingers, using his power to clothe them as the leopard came loping back into the room. “Guard him,” the god ordered, grabbing his thyrsus and getting to his feet. He hesitated for a moment, then kissed Andy soundly. “Don’t say anything, don’t-” he cut off and swallowed hard. “Just. Be careful.” He straightened the ivy in his hair and stood tall.

Andy watched his god carefully, barely even noticing as Vera climbed up on the kline beside him, fur bristling angrily. He wasn’t scared of her; he knew her ire wasn’t directed at him. His god stared at the entryway to the room, thyrsus tight in his grip as the thump of wings grew steadily closer.

Suddenly, another god darted into the room, wings on his sandals and wings on his helmet. There was a satchel over his shoulder, stuffed full of scrolls. His eyes flickered over the room, then landed on Andy’s god.

“What did you do now?” he demanded, voice thick with the accent of Andy’s homeland. “I was busy with,” the name sounded like a clap of thunder and Andy could smell ozone, “and now suddenly I had to fly halfway across the country to deliver _you_ a message.” He dug in his bag, pulled out a scroll, then caught sight of Andy.

“What?” Andy’s god said, holding out his hand for the scroll. The messenger’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you letting your leopard eat that mortal?” he said, his voice filled with disgust. Andy’s god looked back at Andy, then waved a hand dismissively.

“Nah, ignore him. My message?” The messenger raised an eyebrow but passed him the scroll anyway. Andy’s god unscrolled it quickly, thyrsus resting against his shoulder. Andy couldn’t see his face or the scroll, but he could see his shoulders tense. “What is this bullshit? Answer me-” The messenger’s name sounded like wind and strangely, the bleating of a sheep. He just shrugged.

“I’m just the messenger,” he said with a smirk. “But I suggest you deal with this at your earliest convenience. And I suggest you deal with your pets as well.” Then he was gone, the wind carrying him out of the temple. Andy’s god let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” the god said, turning back to Andy. He waved the scroll in the air. “This is from-” This name tasted like blood. “I may or may not have ‘disrespected’ his lady a while back, and he’s throwing a hissy-fit. I’ll deal with him later.” But Andy was still lingering on the messenger’s final words.

“Is that how you think of me? Your pet?” Andy said, climbing off of the kline, dislodging Vera who padded away with a muted growl. The god’s eyes went wide, his grip white-knuckled on his thyrsus.

“Absolutely not!” he hissed, throwing the scroll aside and letting the thyrsus vanish. “He was just being a bitch.” In a few long strides, the god was by his side. “You’re not my pet. And you’re not just an ordinary mortal.” He kissed Andy hard, and Andy relaxed under his touch. He pulled back, and his eyes were soft. “You mean more to me than I ever expected.”

“My lord?” Andy said because he wasn’t sure what else he could say. His heart was beating double-time, but he didn’t want to hope. If he didn’t have hope, then it couldn’t be crushed. The god just stared at him for a moment more before pulling them to both to sit on the kline. 

“Listen, I don’t want to be without you. And I don’t want to have to hide you anymore.” The god took a deep breath. “I love you.” For a moment, Andy stopped breathing. This couldn’t be happening, the god didn’t love him, he just-

Moments passed, moments that Andy spent expecting to wake up. When he didn’t, he took his own deep breath. The god was still staring at him, eyes brimming with curiosity and concern. Oh, shit, he had to respond.

“I love you too,” Andy said, wincing at how his voice cracked. The god beamed then kissed him so thoroughly he couldn’t breathe again. He pulled back and Andy sat there stunned as he reached for his kantharos. The god held it between them, hands wrapped firmly around the twin handles. Andy blinked when he realized the cup wasn’t full of wine, but a thick golden liquid.

“Tell me, Andy,” the god asked. “Have you ever wanted to be immortal?”

“What?” Andy said, unable to contain his shock. “You’re joking.” He had to be. But the god shook his head.

“I’m dead serious.” He brandished the kantharos. “This is nectar. Drink it, and you’ll be immortal. A god.” Andy’s eyes went wide, and the god backpedaled quickly. “A minor one, of course. I’ll give you one of my lesser duties; it’ll get the pantheon off our backs that way. But you won’t age, you won’t be harmed.” 

“And I’ll live forever?” Andy breathed, less a question than a statement. The god nodded somberly. He set the kantharos between them and gently cupped Andy’s face in his hands. 

“Yes. You’ll live forever. With me. Is that what you want?” It was a big decision. But Andy already knew his answer.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I want to be with you.” The god smiled and reached for the kantharos. Andy took the other handle, and together, they guided it to his lips. The nectar tasted sweet, and then it burned. Andy screamed, fire burning in his throat and coursing through his body. It was inevitable that he would faint, the pain so excruciating. And so he did.

He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but he woke to his lover holding his hand and staring at him with concerned eyes. He felt different, the static of divinity humming inside him now, warm and constant. And it felt _good_. 

“Andy?” his lover asked, concerned. Andy grinned. His divine name tasted like honey and sounded like birdsong. “Say something, darling.” And so for the first time, he said his god’s name.


End file.
